


Almost looking forward

by dev_chieftain



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dev_chieftain/pseuds/dev_chieftain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kotetsu arranges to go visit his folks after episode 16, and chats with Barnaby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost looking forward

"Dad?"

He's still shaky sore, the kind of weird jittery feeling of being electrocuted making it hard to sit up straight without his knees yammering. When he swallows, his throat feels dry. He offers her a wan smile, pretending he's so quiet because he's tired. "Kaede~"

Jaw set, she frowns at him. "You look awful." She tosses her head to get her hair out of her eyes for a proper glare and proceeds to glower at him until he meekly drops his eyes to this toes. Truth be told, he feels awful, too. Like he spent the night chasing his own heartbeat. "Are you hungover?"

He wants to tell her 'not this time, sweetie' but that's admitting he's called her while hungover before, so he just smiles sheepishly and asks, "Can I talk to grandmother for a bit, sweetheart?"

"Sure," and the absolute blandness of her tone is what really does him in, as if talking to him isn't something she'd miss. "Grandma!"

There's no time for self-pity about his own daughter not missing him if he were to disappear, because there's his mother, and he winces when she frowns at him because _she_ can tell the difference. "What happened to you, Kotetsu? Are you all right?" Hearing her voice soft and worried makes his throat tight, but he keeps the smile and nods, even as she accuses: "You look like death warmed over."

He laughs, because if he doesn't he'd probably want to cry. "Yeah, I feel pretty close. Um. Listen, I--" He bites his lip, shrugs nervously. "I'm gonna take some time off of work and sort some things out. Is it all right if I come stay with you for a day or two?"

"Of course you can," are the nicest words anyone's ever said to him, and everything else after that is a blur of nitpicky details. By the time he gets off the phone he's probably growing mildew, and is in the process of shrugging very slowly out of his ruined coat when someone knocks at his door.

Puzzled, aching, he limps over to it to open it, thinking something vague about the mail arriving, maybe.

"Kotetsu?" But that is not the mailman, and he backs up a step, laughing weakly and blocking the doorway to be sure Barnaby doesn't slip inside behind him. Not that Barnaby probably would, but after having Fire Emblem barge into his house even the once he's never wanted to risk the same trick being used again. "Kotetsu, where have you been? No one could get hold of you; Agnes said you never called in, Lloyds was in a panic--"

"Ah," and oh, he really wants to be showering right now, it's cold and he's wet and the wind is blowing in and Barnaby's standing out in the rain too, isn't he. "--well, come in or you'll get a chill, right?"

Reluctantly, he steps aside and lets Barnaby enter his home, finishing the painstakingly slow process of extricating himself from his jacket once he's sure Barnaby's distracted with trying to find a place that would be safe to hang up the red-and-white leather jacket he wears everywhere.

Of course, that's a mistake. Not only are his shoulders stiff as if they were welded in place, his shirt evidently sports rips the coat does not, it's a little burned on the cuff of the sleeve where the whip wrapped around his wrist. Barnaby glances up from his fruitless efforts with his jacket and frowns, saying nothing.

Kotetsu doesn't offer any explanation, tossing his own jacket across the back of the couch and gesturing for Barnaby to do the same, if he wants. "Good job last night, by the way," he says, surreptitiously snagging his journal off of the coffee table and carrying it over to a bookcase, where he files it neatly as if it belonged there. "I caught the broadcast when I-" he grins without feeling. "Er, just a bit ago."

"Thank you," Barnaby murmurs, but he has a worried look about him, and to Kotetsu's surprise, he acts on it for once. "You're hurt, aren't you? Did someone attack you last night on your way home?"

He thinks about denying it for a second, then smiles as wide as he can, shaking his finger at Barnaby. "You're pretty good at guessing games, aren't you? Yeah, it was a little rough. I'm fine, though, just hurt my pride, you know?" Leaning back against the bookcase, he's able to conceal how his fingers are still a little twitchy by folding his hands behind his back (even if that strains his arms and his chest and makes it hard to breathe). "Sorry. It was really embarrassing and kinda stupid."

And because I failed, that guy is dead, he thinks glumly, but Barnaby can't read minds and doesn't seem to see through Kotetsu's false cheer. "Are you all right, then? Maybe you should have a doctor look at your arm, at least. Your right shoulder's obviously hurting you."

"Oh, uh, yeah!" He has absolutely no intention of doing that and they both know it. "So, listen. This thing-- it kind of-- heh, I guess it made me think. I haven't been back to see my family in a while and maybe that's got me a little distracted, so I'm thinking I'll go visit them a while. That way nothing like last night'll happen again, anyway."

No matter how casually he says all that, he can see in the subtle tic of Barnaby's cheek as teeth grit and concern is suppressed that the lie has been spotted. Barnaby doesn't know the truth, can only suspect something's wrong but not what, but he stifles the urge to yell at Kotetsu for being an idiot and only asks, with equally false cheer, "Do you want me to relay that to Mr. Lloyds for you? That way you can just rest and get ready for your trip."

At this point, Kotetsu's pretty sure 'getting ready' mostly needs to entail showering until he's not shivering with the cold anymore and sleeping on something a little more forgiving than trash bags full of discarded tin cans, sharp-edged microwave-dinner boxes and sludgy partially-acidic leftovers gone to rot.

"That would help a lot," and this much at least is honest. He means it. He's actually really grateful that, even though Barnaby easily has twenty other people he could reference off the top of his head that deserve to be cared about or idolized or whatever this is they have going on, Barnaby has chosen to befriend and trust Kotetsu.

Kotetsu who, even though he's inches from fainting dead away in his own living room and dying of exposure, still doesn't want to talk about it, still doesn't think he can really say anything of value. He can't help thinking he doesn't deserve to have a friend-- or business partner-- as considerate as all that.

"Then," and Barnaby stands, watching Kotetsu closely. "I'd probably better go deliver that message for you right now, right? Wouldn't want to keep you from packing."

He could cry, he's so relieved Barnaby is just going to drop it. Instead he pushes himself away from the bookcase, stumbles a little and rubs at the side of his nose. "Yeah! Heh. Sorry, I'm still a little shaky from the whole thing."

"Mm." Barnaby's hand clenches into a fist at his side, as if he's holding himself back, and he turns away, retrieving his coat and slipping it on without so much as a shiver for its continued state of 'soaked through'. "Give me a call if you need anything else, then, Kotetsu."

"Yeah," he lies. "Yeah, I will. Thanks, Bunny. I really owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything, old man," Barnaby scoffs, but he sounds a little too serious and he looks a little too worried and will he just _go_ already so Kotetsu can collapse into his shower and lick his wounds in peace? "See you."

"Yeah, later," he half-heartedly waves when he reaches the door, and Barnaby waves back, still wearing that stern expression that says he's thinking about Kotetsu's welfare and not things Barnaby ought to be worried about, like fighting crime or building that dream of his to make Heroes more important to the world.

Somehow, it feels that much harder, locking the door and shuffling wearily to the bathroom, shucking his frigid clothes and stepping gratefully into the warmth of a scalding shower. It's agony, trying to clean himself off with his arms and legs and back aching like they are. Eventually he gives up and just stands under the steaming water spray, eyes closed and head tipped back, half-asleep. The warmth makes his muscles ease up a bit on their complaints, and his head light.

It's almost impossible, getting back out of the shower when the water runs cold and he jerks out of his reverie to realize he was drifting off. It's hell, drying himself with his towel and clambering up the stairs to his bedroom.

He creeps into the covers well into the afternoon, sporting a light fever and a bad case of low self-esteem, and he sleeps until late at night.

When he wakes, there's a message waiting for him, and somehow despite all the moping and feeling sorry for himself, it makes him start to laugh, really laugh, just chuckling like an idiot. Perversely, he almost begins to look forward to this impromptu vacation, even with the weight of the reasons why it's happening on his shoulders. He'll get to see Kaede, after all. It's not _all_ bad.

 _[Lloyds had a conniption at the idea of giving you a vacation, but don't worry. I told him if he didn't like it, he could quit.]_

He sends back,

 _[I'm laughing like an idiot and that's not even funny.]_

And before he gets up, gets dressed the rest of the way and heads downstairs to make himself something that claims to be breakfast, he gets an answer.

 _[It's only funny if I say it, old man, that's why. He said you still have to come in to formally request it, but I've got your back.]_

 __Rather than text back, Kotetsu spends the morning debating between fried rice and eating out in a frivolous expenditure of some pocket change. He ends up settling for re-heating some fried rice from the night before to steel himself for the run-in with Mr. Lloyds, trying to armor his intentions with the confidence that Barnaby does, indeed, have his back. It's kind of strange, to let someone else handle that for him, even just a little. He can't help being strangely cheerful at the freedom it gives him to just take in the possibilities, and look ahead.


End file.
